Written off the prompt "lame"

My stomach lurches
as he goes down -
I cling to the saddle
and hold my breath.
I drop the reins
and let him find his feet,
hoping against hope...
but he comes up lame.
I dismout
and cradle his head
in my shaking hands.
Oh my darling,
my clumsy old man,
what am I to do
with you?


Apparently I'll be fighting for a certain body at some undetermined point with Tabby and Tangerine, who are both far taller than me and outweigh me. What fun!